At this 20-seat sushi counter from rock-star chefs Jimmy Lau and Nick Kim—formerly of Neta—a cool $135 prompts an omakase chef's selection) of exceptionally made edomaezushi served in its purest form, each lightly lacquered with soy and nestled atop a slip of warm, loosely packed rice.

Luscious, marbled toro, a usually late-in-the-game cut affectionately known as the kobe beef of the sea, boldly arrives first, even before sweet Spanish mackerel with barely there shreds of young ginger or sea bream dabbed with plummy ume shiso. The cocksure shuffling, though initially jarring, is a kick hiccup to your usual omakase beat, a winking reminder that, even with the price hike, Lau and Kim haven’t completely shed their subtle sushi-dogma subversions.

Great location, beautiful view

To gauge the change in New York sushi, just look at the soundtrack. The soothing strings and serene jazz of topflight toro temples have been swapped out for the devil-may-care swagger of Jay Z and the Notorious B.I.G., pumped out at decibels more commonly befitting a beer dive than a sushi counter.

The cool-kid cred can be felt at raw-fish young’uns like New York Sushi Ko and Sushi Nakazawa, but nowhere was it more unabashedly in-your-face than at Neta. From behind a minimalist ebony counter, rock-star chefs Jimmy Lau and a beanie-capped Nick Kim—longtime disciples of sushi demigod Masa Takayama—brazenly served peanut-butter ice cream and uni-rich risotto alongside their gleaming, à la carte tiles of nigiri.

A variety of Japanese dishes

A cool $135 prompts a parade of exceptionally made edomaezushi served in its purest form, each lightly lacquered with soy and nestled atop a slip of warm, loosely packed rice. Luscious, marbled toro, a usually late-in-the-game cut affectionately known as the kobe beef of the sea, boldly arrives first, even before sweet Spanish mackerel with barely there shreds of young ginger or sea bream dabbed with plummy ume shiso. The cocksure shuffling, though initially jarring, is a kick hiccup to your usual omakasebeat, a winking reminder that, even with the price hike, Lau and Kim haven’t completely shed their subtle sushi-dogma subversions.